


Nightmares

by HibernatingHermit



Category: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Awkwardness, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, I’m Bad At Titles Too, I’m so bad at this, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, Moonlight, Nervousness, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Nighttime, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Room, Talking, Tension, Wedding Night, Worry, Would this be considered angst, apparently that’s a thing, i guess, i guess that’s good enough, slight lustfulness, wedding night but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HibernatingHermit/pseuds/HibernatingHermit
Summary: It was barely audible, but she heard it. Her name. He had said her name.
Relationships: Dastan/Tamina (Prince of Persia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Nightmares

Tamina didn't care for having a near stranger in her bedchamber, and wished he could leave. But she knew that he had to stay there, for appearances’ sake. If Dastan never came into her room — especially on their wedding night — people would talk.

She was glad, and surprised, when he came in and simply laid upon the ottoman at the foot of her bed, his feet hanging off the end, and his head propped up on the arm. She could see him well enough, even in the darkness, to know he was still there. In her nervousness at such an unfamiliar guest in such an intimate place, she was unable to sleep.

She listened to his long, even breaths, and the sound his body made when it moved against the cushions.

When he'd come to her earlier that night, he'd seemed odd…nervous, just as she was. Though she knew she hid it better than he did. She had practiced keeping her emotions to herself for years, and had mastered the ability to keep her face from telling all.

Neither of them tried very hard to converse, and simply took their respective places. He fell asleep after an hour, and she laid there still, sleep evading her.

She kept watching him, she didn't know why. He was still mostly, but would once in a while move slightly and suddenly before becoming immobile again.

She sighed, the heat of the summer causing her to sweat beneath her blankets, but she didn't want to remove them. Not with him in here. Not that he would see anything, of course. He was asleep, and was even still wearing his boots. But she was still uncomfortable.

Eventually, however, she decided enough was enough, and threw off her covers, and stepped onto the floor. The cool stone soothed her instantly, and though the air was warm, now that she was standing nearer the open archway that led to the balcony, a breeze blew against her, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the night air.

She finally felt relaxed, her muscles no longer so tense, and she felt as if she might perhaps get some sleep after all. She crossed the room, drawing back the sheer curtains and standing on the balcony. The garden below was dark, but she could hear the fountain bubbling, and a night bird was calling.

Everything was peaceful.

A strange noise from behind her made her jump, and she turned, half expecting to see the prince standing right behind her, but he still laid upon the ottoman.

Only now, his breathing was ragged, and something akin to a whimper escaped him. She inched closer, wondering what was the matter with him. His arm, which hung to the floor, twitched, and then a shudder went through his body. His head thrashed from side to side, and she could see beads of sweat upon his skin.

He muttered something she couldn't understand, and then a quiet cry parted his lips, a cry of no words, but still just the sound of it was pitiful to hear.

“No….” He choked, and though she was afraid to go near him, with the unpredictable nature of nightmares, he sounded so broken she wished to comfort him. “…no….”

She watched his fists clench and unclench, and then amongst his mutterings, something made her stop.

“Tamina.”

It was barely audible, but she heard it. Her name. He had said her name.

Suddenly he gasped and bolted upright, his shoulders heaving. She sank back into the shadows so as not to be seen, and he buried his face in his hands.

He stayed in this position for quite some time, trembling, heaving with frantic breaths. Gradually, however, his breathing slowed, and he groaned, falling back against the arm of the ottoman, brushing his hair from his face and the sweat from his skin with shaking hands.

The moonlight caught his shining eyes as they flickered over to the bed, and he sat up again. She watched as he kept looking at the empty place where she had laid just moments before. He stood up, his footsteps nearly silent as they crept along the side of the bed.

He bent over the bed slightly, then started, backing away, and in the silvery light she saw a look of alarm upon his face.He headed for the door, but she knew she had to stop him before he went, she assumed, to go searching for her.

“Dastan,” she ventured, and he came to a halt instantly, turning to look in the direction of her voice.

She stepped from the shadows, and he inhaled sharply at the sight of her.

She was so beautiful, he thought. The moonlight caught her hair, made her skin gleam. He noticed that it also silhouetted her figure through the sheer fabric of her nightdress.

“T-Tamina—“ he wanted to inform her of it, but she stepped toward him, saying,

“Where were you going?”

He tried to focus on her face but couldn't keep himself from glancing down at the outline of her body. Every curve was perfect. “I….”

“Well, Prince, are you not going to answer me?” She was impatient now, her tone changing from soft to stern and quick, like when he'd first met her.

He forced his eyes up to hers, and held her gaze, letting himself fall deeply into her brown eyes. “To look for you.”

“Why?”

“Because…” he stopped. He couldn't very well tell her that he was concerned for her safety because of a nightmare. Especially a nightmare of her dying in an alternate reality that no longer existed. “I only wondered where you might have gone, or if something was happening.”

“I only stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air,” she stated, gesturing toward the curtains that shifted in the breeze.

He nodded. “Of course.” He stepped forward to go back to the ottoman, but at that same second, Tamina stepped to the side, thinking he was going the other way around, and they collided.

“Oh…um….” Dastan mumbled before he was pushed away from her, and her face, for a brief second, showed him her disdain for their closeness.

It hurt him, so badly, to see her hate him all over again. He longed for her to somehow remember that she loved him, that he loved her. He hoped in time, she would grow to love him, but somehow, he just knew it wouldn't be the same kind of love. The passion would be missing. Not on his part…no, there was nothing in the world that could make him stop loving her, desperately loving her, not the Sands of Time…not anything.

He hoped his face didn't reveal any of his thoughts as he walked back to the ottoman. He sank down upon it heavily, and she heard him breathe a tired sigh before lying down on his side, facing away from her.

She crawled back into bed, still confused as to why he had mentioned her name, and wondering what the nightmare had been about to cause him so much distress. Briefly, she considered questioning him about it the next day, but thought better of it. Dreams were private things, and most likely, he wouldn't want to think about that one anymore than he had to.

She lay there, waiting to hear him fall asleep, but unknown to her, he did the same, listening for her breaths to slow, to know if she was no longer watching him.

Eventually, she closed her eyes, and reduced her breathing, trying to relax enough to actually sleep before the sun rose.

He took this as her being asleep, and rose from his place, and began pacing the room. Though he was quiet, she could hear his boots on the stone floor, and peered through her eyelashes at him. He walked quickly back and forth, stopping at the balcony once or twice, but somehow, watching his rhythmic to and fro movement was relaxing, and she drifted off easily while he kept hindrances at bay.


End file.
